The Artist's Heart
by Tazmy
Summary: Christmas Story. Rodney receives a package from Earth.


Summary: Holiday fiction. Rodney receives a package from earth.

This is one of my first fanfictions so it is not as high quality as my later work. I hope you enjoy with that in mind. Oh, I have added a scene at the end for those who wanted a final bit with Sheppard.

Spoilers: SG-1: 48 hours, Redemption parts 1 and 2. SGA: Siege part III

Disclaimer: All normal disclaimers apply. Stargate: Atlantis, its characters and ideas do not belong to me. They bleong to MGM, Sony, Sci-Fi and many other entities.

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Dr. Rodney McKay never received packages when he was on earth, much less on Atlantis. Oh yes, there were always the boxes addressed to him filled with some laboratory knick knack or other, but never had one been sent to his house for _him_. That was why, when he saw the brown parcel by his quarters door, he thought some mistake had been made.

Shifting his head from side to side, he examined the hallway in search of the culprit. Everyone was passing by him without much interest. Some held envelops in their hands and some were sharing them with others. A few gave passing glances tothe object, but none inquired or offered up an explanation.

The Daedalus had arrived just that morning, filled with letters, packages from home, and replacement personnel. Rodney knew that physical mail, the kind sent in an envelop and sealed with love, was a rarity on Atlantis. He didn't attend the mail call that morning for he knew that no one had sent him anything. So he had laid low in his office, ignoring all the quips and shrieks as people gossiped away about the latest news from Earth.

But the presence of the strange box had sent all of these thoughts into disarray. The object was long, too big to pick up and shake. Pulling out an ancient sensor he motioned it up and down the package.

"It's not a bomb, Rodney. It's a package, a gift, a nice tidbit from earth addressed to you. I think the idea is to open it."

"Of course it's not a..." Rodney McKay snapped, turning to see his mocker. "I know it's not a bomb, Colonel. I just felt... well..." He let his sentence drift. He could feel his heart calming down. The idea that one of his underlings had finally flipped and decided to take him out had definitely occurred to him. But it was foolish for him to think that someone could just randomly leave a destructive device on his doorstep, not in Atlantis. Well, hopefully not anyway.

"You weren't there this morning, so I had some of my men deliver it to your door. That will be 3.75 please." Jon Sheppard smiled, as he held out his palm.

"Any idea who it is from?" The physicist glanced from the open hand to the rectangular parcel before him.

"Not a clue. A Christmas present from your folks perhaps?"

Rodney stilled his face, willing that the sudden emotional twinge leave his countenance before being discovered. "I highly doubt it. Who said anything about Christmas anyways?"

"Well a holiday gift anyways. Hanukkah , Kwanzaa, Christmas, hell, even the Winter Solstice, they're all around the same time of year, right?"

"Yes, well, lets just be thankful we don't have to deal with the holiday nonsense here in Atlantis."

It was hard, staying stiff backed with his hands behind his back, pretending not to care about the enigma in front of him. Sheppard was practically jumping with curiosity, wondering as McKay did, about what was in the strange package.

"Look at you, you're just like a five-year-old."

"C'mon, McKay, aren't you the least bit interested in what that might be? You might fool the rest of this base into thinking you're a regular Scrooge McDuck, but I know better."

"Scrooge McDuck?"

The colonel shrugged, his face still lit in anticipation. "I always liked the Disney version. At the very least you could read the label and say who it's from."

Shrugging, McKay went to pick up the package, finding it surprisingly light for its size. It stood about 4 feet tall, but its girth was minimal. Entering his quarters, he wasn't surprised to hear his friend follow from behind.

"So you wanna guess what is inside first, or just tear right into it?"

Rodney steadied his breath, looking at the sides in search of clues. He could feel his face pale, his skin overcome by beads of sweat.

"What? Look at that, McKay, are you blushing?"

The scientist tried to will the red away from his cheeks as he stammered, "It's... It's from... Samantha Carter..."

"From Colonel Carter? Isn't that the scientist your always drooling over?."

Rodney nodded, his legs buckling beneath him as he swept himself into a seated position. He didn't even offer a retort.

"Well that explains how you got such a big package. This is way outside the regulation size."

McKay didn't answer, his hands tracing across the curly markings that bore her name. _Her name. _His palm moved to his cheek, caressing the place that she had kissed him so many years ago. Had she been serious about finding him attractive? It was such a rarity in life he never knew when to take it seriously. Katie... He had barely known Katie Brown was asking him out a few months ago. Girls just never...

"Hey, I'm sure you're having a nice soliloquy in your brain right now, but what do you say we get this thing open?"

McKay nodded, pulling out a box knife and tracing against the taped edges. His heart was skipping beats, he could feel it. Not even the excitement in Sheppard's face could reflect the jubilee happening within McKay's own soul. A package from a sexy and smart blond, it could only happen in his wildest dreams.

As he ripped his fingers along the sides, separating the box from the contents within, he couldn't help but wonder if this was all some vivid hallucination, the insane visions of a lonely mind. And then his blue eyes fell upon the black and white keys from within the parcel.

"That's it, shows over." He held the sides of the parcel together, keeping everything out of his friend's sight.

"No fair, Rodney."

"I assure you, it is completely fair. Does it read anywhere on this parcel Jon Sheppard, hmmm? No, it quite specifically says Dr. Rodney McKay, which means for my eyes only, Colonel."

"Hey, we're all friends here. Just give me a peak."

"No. Now if you would please make your way to the nearest exit--"

"Not till you show me what's in the box."

"Go open your own."

McKay knew he had said the wrong thing the second he saw his friend's face fall. Within a second, a carefully guarded mask had returned with a smile.

"I see," the physicist whispered.

"See what?" Sheppard was crossing his arms now, his legs apart in a defensive position.

McKay chuckled to himself. How quickly the tides had turned.

"You didn't get a package, did you?"

"That's none of your business, McKay."

"Well, this is a first, isn't it. Rodney McKay gets a holiday gift from a very hot blond, and Jon Sheppard gets left with nothing. I must note this in my journal somewhere."

"Shove it, McKay."

He could have offered a response, continued his jibes at the team leader. But then he remembered how his friend's face had fallen. Sheppard had worked in Antarctica for a while, he never spoke of loved ones, maybe he was just as alone as Rodney. For all the time they had spent on Atlantis, this thought had never occurred to the genius, not until now. Sheppard had always been the handsome one, the strong one, the real hero and military commander. He was popular on Atlantis, and unlike with McKay, Sheppard's team actually liked him. So why wouldn't he have friends back home.

"Look, you want to see what's in the package, fine. But you have to promise to leave me alone, deal?"

Sheppard locked his dark brown eyes with McKay's light blue ones. "Deal," he finally replied as though getting the sour end of a diplomatic treaty.

Pushing his left foot against the box, the tattered edges loosened up once again to reveal the beautiful instrument within. "There, you happy now. Now I'm sure you have some important... military things... to be doing so if you don't mind I would like to get back to real work."

Rodney stood up pushing the gift to the side with his left foot.

"It's a keyboard?"

"How very astute of you. Now if you please..." He motioned for Sheppard to leave, using his most snippy voice available.

At first it looked as though the team leader would refuse the request, that he would stand there forever in wait of an explanation. But a moment later McKay found himself alone with the instrument. Sitting cross-legged on the steel floor, he moved the keyboard onto his lap, a large smile daring to cross his lips. His peripheral vision barely caught sight of the white card that gently fell beside the torn box.

His hand shook ever so gently as he lifted the card. He wondered if maybe he was having a hypoglycemic reaction as a sudden dizziness fell upon him, but he realized it was nothing more than a joyful heart and a forgetful breath. On the top of the folded paper were scribbled the words, _From one artist to another. Happy Holidays, McKay._

Opening the card, he couldn't hold back the largest smile he had allowed since his childhood.

_After hearing about all the times you've saved the day over there, I felt it was time for me to offer my congratulations. Science is an expression of the soul as much as it is an art. Before you can configure your labors into masterpieces, you have to experience and you have to feel it within your own heart. You are an artist now, McKay, and Atlantis is lucky to have you working there. P.S. Please do not take this gift as anything other than a platonic gesture from one friend to another. I just figured Atlantis could use some music._

Lowering the card to the floor, he drew his attention back to the object before him. Steadying his fingers, he gently pressed down on a few of the keys. There was no sound. Silently, he berated himself for forgetting the on switch. After correcting the mistake, his hand fell once again against the sweet instrument, his mind wandering to old dreams of concert pianists and beautiful blonds.

Dr. Rodney McKay knew there were definite advantages to being a genius. For one, people looked up to him and depended on him. He could bare his own importance on his shoulder because he was needed and everyone around him knew it. For two, he could pick up on ideas and techniques faster than anyone around him. Sure, he was all fingers when it came to firing guns or dancing, but when it came to science, mathematics, or even music, he had a natural touch. As his hands slid across the keys, he could remember all of the lessons given to him as a child. He knew how each note was processed within the keyboards electronics, how science had mastered the art of sound in the simple object. He had learned to play by ear, and as he once again opened his thoughts to the notes, it was as though he had never stopped playing.

He tried to shove away the fears, the sounds of his teacher telling him that brilliant as he was, he would never be good enough to play for anyone but himself, that he lacked the proper touch to give his music the needed feeling. Instead, he tried to think of Sam's note. She had called him an artist reflecting the compliment he had given her so long ago. Was she right? What hope was there for Rodney McKay who had hidden his true self so long ago only to have it awoken just a year or two before.

He picked up the keyboard, carrying it under his arm as he paced through Atlantis's corridors. He bore no mind to the crowds around him, nearly running into a lieutenant or two along the way. He didn't even know he was headed to the mess hall until he had planted himself there, pulling a table and chair to the side. Placing the keyboard on the table, he was only vaguely aware of the looks around him.

He took a seat. His heart pounded. Closing his eyes, he recalled the joy that came from receiving this wonderful gift. He felt the love that was awakened in his heart when he found in Atlantis a home and a family. Summoning all this into his fingers, his stomach rumbling and his hands shaking, he began to play a familiar melody.

He played through Jolly Old St. Nicholas, and Jingle Bells, remembering them only from the television shows he had watched as a child. His parents had never tried caroling with him and Rodney had never before felt an affinity towards such songs. He was just starting Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, when someone approached him from behind.

"What are you doing?" Ronon Dex had pulled a seat next to the scientist, and Rodney knew he was undergoing a visual examination from his teammate.

"It's Christmas back home. I just thought I'd bring a bit of that here with some Christmas songs, nothing wrong with that is there?" He tried to make his voice sound snippy, trying to cover the fact that anything he might be doing might be construed as odd.

"Christmas?"

"Yes, it's a religious holiday back on Earth. Well, religious for some anyways." He stopped playing, turning to Ronon. "My family never celebrated Christmas really, only used it as an excuse to fight. Not that any of us believed in God anyway. Religion... Can't say I've ever found one that didn't sound utterly ridiculous."

"So why are you..."

"Playing Christmas songs? I don't know really. Just struck me as something to do." He turned back to the keys and restarted the song from the beginning. His mind filled with the technical know-how of the delicate instrument. He could have made one himself just as easy as he could make an atomic bomb, but the instrument had long ago failed him. Yet, here he was playing one where everyone could see. Would they judge him as he teacher had?

"I see." Ronon stared at McKay a second longer, but then the scientist was relieved to see his newest friend stand up and walk away without another word. Really, the man had worse social skills than himself, and that was saying something.

McKay turned his attention back to the song, allowing it to flow from his very being. The music was soothing, calming his heart with each beat. He could sense how the voices in the commissary were quieting down, stares finding him. He thought back to all of the times he was afraid, to all of the times he had played hero, to all of the times he had watched someone die. His heart grew more and more conflicted with each memory that passed through his thoughts. He had never heard such beauty come from his own fingertips, and he only hoped that everyone else could hear it as well. No, music was never meant to be technical. It was meant to be lived. It was meant to be remembered.

"I never thought you for a religious person, Rodney."

This time it was Elizabeth Weir that had taken the empty seat next to the physicist.

"I'm not."

"Then why the carols?"

A sorrowful pang turned in his stomach as he thought of Ford and all the latest happenings with his dear friend. Just on time for a song change, he decided on the one to best fit this new mood.

"I just thought we could use some music. A morale boost if you will."

Elizabeth nodded, but he barely noticed. After a moment of silence, he wondered if she too was about to wander off.

"Silent Night?"

"Yeah."

"I think that's about as religious a Christmas song as you can get, Rodney."

"Maybe." Rodney could feel the music flowing through him, in a way it never had as a child. His teacher had been right, music couldn't be methodical. There had to be something more, something to express.

"It's a song about hope," he finally added. "I may not buy into religion, Elizabeth, but I've been out here long enough to know that maybe faith isn't such a bad thing. Faith in what? I don't know. But at least I finally see there is hope."

"It's what keeps us all going." She was staring at him. Probably wondering what changes had possessed the impromptu concert. Would she send him to see Dr. Heightmeyer?

"Elizabeth, I'm alive. As a coward and a man who believes death is imminently near at all times... After facing the wraith... Sometimes it's hard to believe that I'm not six feet under. I've watched men die and I've watched myself play hero. I've stayed up for days on end trying to find solutions, relying more and more on the adrenaline rushes that come with stress. For the first time in my life, I have a family that I can actually appreciate. Though don't tell anyone I admitted that, especially Radek. When I play this song, Elizabeth... I don't know. It expresses what I could never say in words."

She was still staring at him. Was she worried? Should he have expressed so much? What got into him? He had a habit of being as tight lipped as he could about every aspect of his life and then without warning spilling out his whole heart to anyone that would listen. He hated all this bonding stuff; he never had been any good at it. And still she was just sitting there, making him nervous. Concentrating on the music before him, he tuned her out. Who cared what she or anyone else thought, since when did he ever care.

When he finished the song, he didn't move on to the next. His fingers felt frozen against the keys. Elizabeth was still there. He turned to look at her. "Any requests?"

She shook her head. "It's beautiful, Rodney. Just play whatever you feel." With that she got to her feet and headed to a table where the rest of the team sat.

He just nodded at the remark, not letting her know how much he had needed to hear that, or how much it had touched him. Slowly his fingers began pressing a new tune, It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, another solemn song of hope. He resisted the urge to watch the faces that were now watching him.

"Remind me again, why you kicked me out if you were only going to come and share your new toy with everyone else?" Sheppard turned the chair backward and took a seat. A boyish smile was firmly planted on his face.

Rodney strummed forth, himself smiling. He knew though, now, that the mess hall was covered with people who must have heard about the caroling. People who had come to hear him play. What was it Sam had said, she just felt Atlantis could use some music? Yes, the haven seemed a most welcome treat to the overworked staff. He strummed his fingers across the warmed plastic, his smile growing larger by the song. This was joy, he realized, joy as he had never heard it before. So he continued to play, the music emanating from somewhere deep within.


End file.
